Tribute
by foxfirealchemist
Summary: A short poemfic as a tribute to the late Maes Hughes. Its in Roy Mustang's POV and is told with the memory of a 'conversation' they shared.Poem: Dreams by Langston Hughes


_ooc: _Hiya! I'm Kitsune, or Foxfire if you prefer, and this is the first story I've posted here. Its sort of a song fic, but not really. Its closer to being a poem-fic, seeing as it revolves around a poem! xD Anyways, this is a Tribute to Maes Hughes told through Mustang's 'point of view'. Sort of. ..;

Well.. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Maes Hughes, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist in general, of the poem. I do, however, own Roy's pen. x333

Credit for FMA goes to its creator; credit for the poem, "Dreams", goes to Langston Hughes. Credit for the fic goes to me, 'cause I wrote it. Its mine! -possesive growl-

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_Hold fast to dreams_

_For when dreams die_

Eyes of a stubborn black stared harshly at an old worn desk, drilling holes in the dark wood as the officer fiddled aimlessly with a ballpoint pen. A trail of black ink flowed off the end of a crisp signature, marking the spot that the colonel had lost interest in the report. His grip on the pen, appearing loose and soft, was firm, tight enough to make hidden knuckles look as pale as the white gloves they donned. Ebony eyes shifted slowly, wandering over neglected papers and maps to a picture—in a simple frame—hidden beneath a pile of abandoned reports and documents. The pen slipped from Mustang's fingers as he reached to the photo, digging it out of the pile and bringing it closer. An already present frown grew deeper as an emotionless gaze, an expression born of training and strict management, locked on the smiling form of one of the two people present in the picture.

On complete instinct, Roy ran his thumb over the person; a man with a giant grin, short dark brown hair with a distinctive cowlick—that happened to be extremely similar to Edward Elric's style—, and small rectangular glasses.

Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes.

_Life is a broken-winged bird_

_That cannot fly._

_**"Roy?" Dark eyes rose, meeting abnormally serious green ones. Seeing that he had the higher-ranking officer's attention, Hughes continued. "Do me a favor, okay?" A slender ebony brow rose in question, and Colonel Mustang blinked. "What is it Hughes?"**_

**"_Don't let go of your dream," the Lieutenant Colonel paused, as if waiting for dramatic_ _music to kick in the background, "Ever." He finished, his expression almost ridiculously grave._**

**_A smirk curved onto the colonel's slips and he spoke with a slightly over-exuberant tone of confidence. "Don't worry," he said, matching the other's gaze with one of his own, "I won't." Scenes of himself, standing as Führer, flashed in his darkened orbs, transferring to the smirk he proudly displayed. Hughes, noticing his friend's expression, burst out his trademark grin; chuckling lightly. "Good." He said softly, grin bold and loud on his lips. Good…_**

_Hold fast to dreams_

_For when dreams go_

" 'Don't let go of your dream,' " the colonel mumbled to himself, eyes remaining locked on the photo. Hughes's serious face melting into a laughing grin played in Mustang's gaze and his sighed softly, closing his eyes and making the image fade back into the depths of his memory. Opening his eyes he glanced up, finding himself looking at Riza Hawkeye's inquiring expression. "Sir? Is everything alright?" Roy gave another sigh and turned around, glancing out the window at the bustling section of Central visible. "Yes." He stated quietly, not turning around. "It is." The lieutenant was not fooled, but she nodded lightly. "Yes sir." Quietly she walked forwards, laying a small pile of pile of papers on her commanding officer's desk. "Edward Elric's report." Turning, the female officer left the room, leaving the colonel to his thoughts.

Without saying a word Roy allowed his eyes to wander over the front of the report. He picked it up silently and quoted to himself, " 'Ever.' " A smirk curved onto his lips and, dropping Fullmetal's report, he reached over to the photo he had set down at Hawkeye's arrival. Picking it back up he chuckled lightly and spoke again. "Don't worry," his smirk grew and he set the picture down gently, "I won't."

_Life is a barren field_

_Frozen with white snow._

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And there you have it. There isn't any more. -nodnod-

At least, there isn't anymore that /I/ know about... o.o;;;


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